


A Darkness Inside Him

by dsa_archivist



Category: due South
Genre: BDSM, Drama, M/M, S&M, Slash
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2000-04-04
Updated: 2000-04-04
Packaged: 2018-11-11 02:24:23
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence
Chapters: 1
Words: 391
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/11139288
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/dsa_archivist/pseuds/dsa_archivist
Summary: A story which has been described as 'uber dark'.





	A Darkness Inside Him

**Author's Note:**

> Note from Speranza, the archivist: this story was once archived at [Due South Archive](http://fanlore.org/wiki/Due_South_Archive). To preserve the archive, I began manually importing its works to the AO3 as an Open Doors-approved project in June 2017. I tried to reach out to all creators about the move and posted announcements, but may not have reached everyone. If you are (or know) this creator, please contact me using the e-mail address on [Due South Archive collection profile](http://archiveofourown.org/collections/duesoutharchive).

A Darkness Inside Him

This is radically different from anything I've ever done. Thank you kindly to my listsibs on Serge for their support, kind words, and encouragement. 

Rated NC-17. B/D S/M warning. Dine described this as 'uber dark' and I have to agree. Skip this one if you like your Fraser and Kowalski squeaky clean and pure. 

Feel free to send comments to. All my stories can be found at http://www.geocities.com/raven_free/ 

A Darkness Inside Him 

By: Raven 

This isn't the first night I arrive at Ray's to find him lying on the bed, one arm cuffed to the bedframe. There's nothing for me to think about. I yank the other arm back and cuff it too, tightly. I want there to be a welt in the morning. I undress him wordlessly, pulling his pants off his legs, but just tearing away the cheap cotton tee-shirt. I divest myself of my clothing even more quickly, pulling the belt out of the loops in my jeans. 

I come onto the bed and straddle his legs, sitting on his thighs. He knows better than to look at me. I let the belt tickle his chest a few times before bringing it down hard, drawing up an angry red mark. Again and again until he bites his lip, drawing blood. 

I hate him. 

He is not my partner. 

Not even my lover. 

Only a soul to torture until my partner and lover returns. 

I hate myself for needing this. 

Does he, too, hate this ugliness we crave? 

When I pull up his legs to take him, he is loose and ready and willing. 

I fuck him hard, spilling drops of blood onto white cotton sheets. He comes first, wordlessly, his body shaking with the strain. It isn't long until I spill my seed into him. 

I pull out, get up, and dress, then I leave. If I remember, I might come back tonight and let him loose. Maybe I'll wait till tomorrow. Either way, the morning will be like none of this ever happened. The morning is always a cover. Pretending to be buddies when all we want to do is kill each other. And fuck, too. Fuck after I've punished him for wanting me. 

There is nothing in this world that comes free. Least of all me. 


End file.
